A WATERFALL Once, lulled to meditation. I lay me down beside a waterfall. Mossy was tlie bank whereon I re- posed, and as I lay I listened, j and this is what I heard:' I gg Amid the roaring of the cat- aract could be distinguished myr- iad aOunds—tink - tank - tonk - tonk - tink - a - tink - a - tank - a - tonk was the sound, as drops J fell splashing into a quiet little pool below. At the brink of the fall, the water bubbled and gur- — gled with a m,erry, carefree sound, as it spashed over to join the i 1" roar below. Here and there a boulder impeded the progress and j 9 the water rushed past .with an angry muttering. t Leaving the fall, my ears began j to take in the noises of the stream, i g- heretofore unnoticed. As it neared cjg the brink of .. the fall it became J more noisy and more turbulent, ! p as if it did not relish the idea j rs of hurling itself, with a crash, j t to the rocks far below. On the j very brink, the water seemed to hesitate, undecided whether or not R it would take the plunge after all. but fate conquered and it fell, in a beautiful curve, amid a splat¬ter ofx silvery spray. It landed with a crash and a roar that was deafening. Its struggles became ; more and more quiet as it prog- JUL ressed, and finally it flowed away j on its musical course among rocks j and branches. I j But those were only rude ; ( sounds. While I lay, half asleep, , j there came to my ears the small, ' . indistinct noises that have so . much hidden meaning. , j First, came a plop as of a peb- ; ble dropping into the stream, deep . toned; then came another, plop, , , but ah, how different! This was , no pebble but a fish leaping for ; , an insect. Then, a soft, oh,, so very sofe splash, accompanied by a rustle, as a branch moved by the wind, dipped its foliage into the stream Then, as the wind changed, came the soft rippling sound of tiny-wavelets stirred by the breeze. Shrouded in thought, I did not notice how late it was getting. However, aroused by the sudden j gloom of twilight, I hurried home¬ward Avay, promising myself an¬other afternoon upon that noisy bank. WINIFRED HANCOCK A PARADOX First with a distant rumble and then with a louder and louder roar, the waves of the ocean an¬nounced their approach. Faster ; and faster, as the chariots of old, j the waves sped on toward the ! grayish gold sand on the beach, j Castles and dungeons, prisons and tunnels that had been made In the sand were swept away by the merciless water. With a tri¬umphant roar the billows broke. Creeping and frolicking, sighing and laughing, reluctant and teas- : ing, the water retreated to the l bosom of the ocean, carrying with j it many treasures to be hidden ! somewhere in the many store¬houses of the deep. Far in the distance the white sails of many fishing boats rose above the ever changing water forms. Still farther out the smoke of steamers outlines the horizon as they passed, going to and from the far off lands. Ever changing, yet always the came, the ocean continues and will continue to break down the treasures built by youth in the sands of the beach, and to carry the man-made crafts far away to the distant countries and safely home again. MARGARET WARD.